Bakefast At Piffany's

Love is bleaching
bed sheets,
because we could never wait.
Love is seeking
bare feet,
phone calls from other states.

Love was
loved ones,
love was
loved once.

Well do you
still forget to
brush your teeth?
Cause you’re too caught up in

the morning;
each eyes peel,
peer into pores,
change of breathing wakes each other up.
Now it’s cold air,
nobodys laying there,
checking my phone
and going back to sleep.

I sleep in a bed and home that we made
but I'm left alone with your scent on pillow sheets.
Rearranging furniture to forget my past mistakes,
covering up the walls in an attempt to create
something that will make me forget who you've become,
something that will make me forget what you've lost.

And now it’s new meaning
into inanimate objects,
working towards better health
or just longer breaths to kill more time.

Count the seconds,
count the heartbeats,
count the messages,
count the lack of replies.

People we loved
hurt us
and we make up excuses
to tell ourselves they had to,
and that it’s all okay
and that they mean well,
but why?

I'm going to start doing what I want to do,
I'm going to start getting selfish.